Most of us have either had a bad scissors moment or witnessed the act of one. What is it with kids and scissors – you put the two together and 9 times out of 10 something is going to go to hell in a hand basket. And if your little angel-pie doesn’t come up with the bright idea, a sibling or friend will do the trick for him/her.
Yesterday I was enjoying a cup of coffee and the news when my 3 year old came up to me.
“Look Mom! My sock is funny now.” Boy was he proud of his little creative endeavor. It is just a dang lucky thing that his toes didn’t happen to get in the way of the kitchen shears when he cut 3/4 of the end of his sock off.
“Elias, that was a good sock. Now you’ve made it so it won’t work right anymore. Remember, you aren’t supposed to use scissors without Mom.”
“Well, you could just tape it shut again.”
Little guy is so helpful. I should have recognize the parenting equivalent of the four horsemen the first time I saw him scale the cabinets to reach the counter top. And he was like 9 months old at the time. I guess the silver lining is that it took this long for the scissor disaster to happen.
Of course, the death and dismemberment of a sock is nothing compared to what his older brother did to himself. This here is a shot of my oldest son at about age 3, maybe 3 1/2. Check out those eye lashes. His whole life, people have commented over his amazing eye lashes – which have remained incredibly thick and long all these years. (His sister will hate him by the time she’s in high school because while her lashes are long and thick, they are not as amazing as his.)
So Mister Great Eyelashes grew up from this photo and was once a second grader. A second grader in a room full of rambunctious boys and a first year teacher. A first year teacher who was still working on mastering classroom management.
One day I get a little phone call from Miss Teacher. She lets me know that she has had to take scissors away from her students due to a little “issue” that my son had in class that day. My heart begins to race as I envision uncoordinated 7 year olds running with scissors in hand. But no. Miss Teacher was calling to advise me that my son cut his eyelashes off.
When he got off the bus that day, I gave him a look-see. Sure enough, starting at the outside corner’s skin and angling out to the center of his eye, his right eye’s lashes were snipped off. Let me tell you, you haven’t seen weird until you’ve seen a kid with eyelashes like that.
Of course, I just took a wee gander through the billions of pictures I’ve taken of the kiddos and can’t find a single shred of digital evidence of the “scissor incident” which just goes to show you that sleep deprivation really knocks the socks off a mom. No humiliating photo to show his Prom dates some day. Dang.